The screen door opens, and an older woman, perhaps in her sixties, is waiting with a friendly expression on her face. “Welcome,” she says as I hesitantly walk up the steps. I thought I would feel relief, anticipation perhaps, but all I feel is terror and pressure. Because what if this doesn’t work? What if they can’t help us?
Stopping halfway up, with only three steps to go, I close my eyes and picture my own mother. To channel her strength. She was a fighter. She was an advocate for women everywhere.
“You can do this,” I mutter. The woman, still standing patiently, smiles as I come forward.
“Welcome. I’m Anna.” The wrinkles around her eyes show nothing but warmth from her laughter.
“I’m Noelle.”
“Such a pretty name. Would you like to come inside?” I nod at her question, and she guides me into the sunroom with open windows and a pitcher of water and lemon on a table. They’re obviously prepared at any time.
“Thank you.” I stop to glance around. The colors are all vibrant and welcoming. Soft blues and pinks cover the walls. Large cushions are set in strategic places all around, and the overstuffed furniture is inviting. Potted plants dot every table, with vases of flowers in between. “It’s beautiful here,” I tell her as two women pass. One older with light blonde hair. And when she gazes at me, I know. That’s Lilith.
Turning abruptly, I lose my balance and fall into the doorjamb, hitting the front of my shoulder, where I have unhealed bruises that still hurt. I hiss with pain as tears prick my eyes.
“Noelle, are you alright?” Anna asks, and I feel two sets of hands helping me to my feet.
“Fine. I’m just a klutz,” I mutter. I doubt Lilith knows who I am, so my reaction is unreasonable.
“Sit, sit.” Anna guides me to a wicker chair in the sunroom, and I drop into it, a hand to my shoulder trying to stop the throbbing.
“I’d ask how we can help you, but I can see for myself.” Anna nods to my shoulder and eyes my head.
“Yeah, that.” I don’t deny it. “I was told, years ago, that you might be able to help me with something unconventional.” I meet Anna’s stare as Lilith sits beside me with an ice pack. She doesn’t say anything as she gently places it against my shoulder.
“We can try. Noelle, this is Lilith, one of our owners.” Shocked, I always thought Lilith just donated her time and money.
I look at her then. She’s beautiful; it’s no wonder her son is so gorgeous. “I know who you are.”
“You do?” Lilith smiles kindly, and I still can’t tell if she recognizes me or not.
“I’ve been following the news about Sparrow House since I was fourteen. You’ve been a great advocate for battered women across the panhandle.”
“Well, thank you. I like to hope I’m helping.” She grasps my hand in my lap.
“How can we help you, Noelle?” Anna asks as she pours water for us all.
Taking a breath, I count a few beats. “I need help getting my cousin out of his parents' clutches.”
“Tell us about him.” Lilith’s temperate voice breaks the tension I feel.
“Sawyer?” She nods. “He’s six, loves magic and dinosaurs. He climbs trees like they’re his playground. He has no fear. And smart...he’s so smart. He loves math, all kinds, and building volcanos so we can make them explode. He’s…perfect.” I love him so much. I don’t know what I’d do if something ever happened to him.
“It sounds like you consider him yours,” Anna observes.
“I raised him. We live with his parents, but I’ve taken care of him for as long as I can remember. I would do anything for him. But I know I will lose him if I don’t do this right, and he’ll be stuck there. They’ll destroy him, and I can’t let that happen.”
“What makes you believe that?” Anna asks.
“They aren’t nice people. My uncle, Seth, he drinks a lot. Beer and vodka are his vices. And Karen, my aunt, she just doesn’t care about anything.” I know I must confess that I take the beatings, but it’s hard to make someone understand why I’m so protective of him.
“Do they hit him?” I shake my head. “Is there food in the house?” I nod. “He has his own room and bed? The basics.” I nod again. Dropping my head into my hands, I already know what she will say.They can’t help me.“Unless you have proof that he’s in danger or they’re hurting him, the courts won’t rule in your favor.”
As I thought. It’s a hard pill to swallow. I need a better plan. “So you’re saying, unless he’s starving or getting beaten, I can’t do anything?” It’s not a criticism. I understand that there’s only so much help given our situation.
They both sigh with frustration. “In layman’s terms, yes. However, we can help you get a lawyer and social worker to get the ball rolling. If an inspection and interview provide any red flags, you might have a case.”
“Might,” I repeat the word, hating it with every fiber of my being. I can sense their concern and see it in the looks they share. “Okay.” Clapping my hands on my thighs, I stand. “Thank you. This has been helpful.” Rolling my lips between my teeth, I teeter on the edge of tears.